


Lying In Your Attic (I Can Feel The Static)

by CapedCommissioner (smittenbritain)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Exploring Wayne Manor, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Teen Crush, Teen Dick Grayson, Teen Wally West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 01:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30081717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/CapedCommissioner
Summary: When they're sixteen, Dick and Wally spend the summer exploring the lesser used parts of Wayne Manor. Amongst the dust and the boxes, they make a few discoveries.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	Lying In Your Attic (I Can Feel The Static)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from 'Zorbing' by Stornoway! I was absolutely enchanted by the line I used for the title, and came up with this fluffy little thing.
> 
> Batcest/incest shippers do not interact!

“Dick, be careful-”

“I’m good,” he promised. Wally didn’t look entirely convinced, but he did smile at Dick from his spot by an old cabinet full of plates. 

Dick held his arms out for balance as he stepped from chair to chair, his socked feet sinking into the squishy seats. His sneakers sat abandoned by the door, tossed aside the second he saw the chance to start climbing; even though Alfred and Bruce had given them permission to go exploring in the lesser used parts of the manor, he knew they’d appreciate him not putting his shoes all over the furniture. 

Wally watched him from the side, head tilted. It wasn’t the highest he’d ever seen Dick climb, so it was a little funny that he was telling Dick to be careful over  _ dining chairs, _ of all things. He even had the solid oak table right next to him in case he needed to drop down. 

On the other hand, the concern was refreshing. He felt like any other sixteen-year-old - or, well, any other person his age who happened to have access to a giant manor.

There was a delicate clink of china. “I thought Alfred would’ve taken all this,” Wally mused, poking at a plate on its stand. “I figured he’d wanna save it.”

“He’s already got the good china downstairs.” Dick stopped at the end of his row and considered the chair at the head of the table; if he was careful, there was probably enough room for him to continue his circuit. “I guess that stuff isn’t as important.”

Wally closed the door again with a soft click. “Of course you guys have multiple sets of  _ the good china.” _ Dick almost laughed at the distaste in Wally’s voice. “Iris just has one. Pretty sure it’s from her grandma. What do you even use it for anyway?”

Dick darted around to the other side of the table with a few quick steps. The chair wobbled underneath him just a little bit where one of its legs was caught on a wrinkle in the rug, but it steadied again when he adjusted his weight. “Guests, I guess.”

“You guys have guests all the time and you never bring it out.”

“I don’t think it’s Bruce’s thing.”

“Alfred’s?”

“Alfred’s.”

Wally chuckled as he peeled away from the cabinet. His footsteps thudded quietly through the thick layer of dust on the floorboards, leaving imprints of his shoes behind. Dick glanced up as Wally paused at the empty fireplace, crouching to flick at a few little chips of coal left scattered around it. They skittered into the open grate, and there they sat, still and quiet without a spark to light them. 

“How many dining rooms do you have again?”

“I don’t know,” Dick admitted. He came to a stop next to Wally, both feet on the same squishy seat now. With his loop of the table completed, he carefully settled down to perch on the edge of the table, prodding at the intricate, decorative loops on the back of the chair with his toes. He’d need to change his socks once they went back downstairs, he thought idly. They were covered in a thick layer of grey dust.

Wally brushed his hands off against the knees of his jeans before he stood again. He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know how people ever used this whole place.”

“Me neither.” Dick tugged the chair closer so he could rest his chin on his folded arms. Bruce had told him stories about the history of Wayne Manor before, usually when he was younger and more willing to sit still for long enough to listen. As far as Dick knew, it had only ever been Bruce, his parents, and Alfred; they’d never ventured beyond the second floor. There had never been any need to. Previous Waynes had had bigger families, bigger events, but Bruce had never needed the extra room. Not even Dick could fill all of that space, no matter how hard he tried.

He watched Wally move about the space with all the hesitant grace and curiosity of a cat. It was entertaining to watch; he ran his fingers across the wallpaper, still pristine after all these years, until they bumped up against a window frame. He tiptoed closer and twitched aside the curtains, only to reel back with a cough when dust plumed into the air. Dick buried a snort in his arms, but Wally turned a playful glare on him anyway as dust motes sparkled through the air.

“You knew that was gonna happen,” Wally huffed.

Dick shrugged, grinning. “I thought it was obvious.”

Wally sneezed. He rubbed his nose, laughing at himself. “Yeah, fair.”

As Wally moved on, Dick hopped down from the table, wiggling his way between a pair of dining chairs. He grimaced as he tiptoed back over to his sneakers, and rather than sit on the dusty floor to put them on, he leaned back on the  _ slightly _ less dusty walls and lifted one foot into the air to wrestle them on. Alfred was going to have a field day with the state of his clothes once he saw them. Maybe it was time to start doing his own laundry.

* * *

They continued their exploration another, rainier day. Wally was staying for the weekend, and with their breakfast out of the way and nowhere else to go, they disappeared into the bowels of the manor to see what they could find.

Their search led them to an old wing of bedrooms. The length of carpet running up the hallway was stiff under their feet, and there were old, empty plant pots scattered between doorways. A few specks of dirt lingered at the bottom, but otherwise there was no sign of the life that had roamed these halls once upon a time. 

Old portraits were fixed solidly to the walls, breaking up the disgusting pattern of the wallpaper. As they wandered along, Dick studied a few of the faces, and he found faint traces of Bruce in them; sure enough, the plaques underneath listed various Waynes, their names growing more antiquated the further they went. The common thread Dick always seemed to find was the eyes, piercing and blue even through the oil paint. If Dick wasn’t so familiar with those eyes and how warm they could be, he supposed he might find it a little bit haunting.

Wally moved ahead of him, testing a few doorknobs here and there. Most jiggled and didn’t move, locked by some long lost key, but they stumbled upon a couple that opened for them.

The furniture inside was, more often than not, covered in white sheets. The curtains were drawn, so the only light to see by was what trickled through from the hallway. Together, they squinted in at the ghostly shapes, murmuring to each other as they speculated what might be underneath: an armchair here, a bureau there. Wally withdrew when they caught sight of themselves in an uncovered mirror, shivering and mumbling something about how creepy it was.

“You wanted to come up here,” Dick said, closing the door firmly. He wouldn’t admit it, but it had given him the chills, too. Teasingly, he added, “Scared already, Kid Flash?”

Wally glanced at him over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not scared. I don’t  _ get _ scared.”

Dick hummed agreeably, and while Wally didn’t look like he believed him, he did let it go. 

The room at the end of the hallway was unlocked, and this time, as if he had something to prove, Wally took a few steps inside. Dick followed, drifting close enough to Wally to feel the speedster heat radiating off of him; it was, admittedly, a little colder up here, especially with the rain hammering against the windows, and Wally didn’t seem to mind when Dick stood shoulder to shoulder with him anyway. In fact, he turned  _ towards _ Dick just a little bit, offering him a smile rather than the view of his back. 

This bedroom was similar enough to the others. The bed itself was the centrepiece, the carved headboard easy to spot with the way the sheet over it tented, and Dick knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was bigger than his own, despite the fact that Bruce had already generously granted him a double rather than a twin. There was a lamp towering in the corner, creating a ghostly figure with the way the sheet fell around it, and then the usual wardrobe and bedside tables Dick expected to find here. 

Wally peered into the attached bathroom, his nose wrinkling. “Do you think any of this still works?”

“Probably not. I know they don’t turn on the heating up here because it’s a waste, so they probably did the same for the water.”

He closed the door with a hum. “It still smells like an old lady’s perfume in there.”

Dick dropped back onto the side of the bed, chuckling. “This  _ whole room _ smells like an old lady’s perfume.”

Wally laughed quietly. He crossed the room, heading over to the wardrobe. He lifted the sheet just enough to peer inside, turning his head this way and that as he tried to see into the dark corners. “I wonder if there’s any secret passages,” he said thoughtfully.

“I think the Batcave fills that quota,” Dick said, leaning back and propping himself up on his hands. “Pretty sure the rest of the manor is just a regular house.”

“Is it, though?” Wally closed the door with soft click and let the sheet fall back into place. He grinned as he headed over to Dick, toppling backwards onto the bed next to him. “I feel like an old house would-  _ woah. _ This bed is  _ bouncy.” _

Dick blinked down at him. Wally was sprawled on his back, a childish sort of delight in his eyes as he wriggled further back onto the bed; the sheet bunched up around him as he squirmed, catching around his knees as he shuffled upright again. His tongue stuck out between his teeth as he bounced again, and Dick laughed as he rocked on the edge of the bed. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m-” Wally cut himself off with a grunt as he tipped onto his side. He kicked his shoes off, and then clambered up to his feet on the bed with a grin. He was already taller than Dick anyway by a couple of inches - Dick swore it was down to the speed messing with his growth spurts over the years - but now he towered over him, triumphant. “I’m gonna jump on the bed. Nobody’s here to stop us.” He offered Dick a hand. “Coming?”

He didn’t have to think twice. 

“Absolutely.” Dick slipped down to toe off his sneakers, and then he grasped Wally’s hand to pull himself up onto the mattress.

It felt  _ forbidden, _ in a way. When he was younger, Dick had received more than his fair share of gently scolding looks from Alfred when he’d caught him doing just this in his own room, the kind where he’d tilted his head down to peer at him over his glasses with a fond,  _ “Master Dick, let’s keep our feet on the floor, shall we?” _ No amount of reminding Alfred that Dick regularly  _ didn’t _ keep his feet on the floor anyway didn’t convince him, much to his childish frustration.

Now, though, there was nobody to stop them, and besides, it was an unused bedroom anyway. Dick had a feeling that Alfred probably wouldn’t mind when it was here.

Wally held onto both of Dick’s wrists as they jumped, laughing as the springs groaned under their feet. “This is  _ awesome,” _ he cackled, following the way Dick turned them in a circle gleefully. “Iris  _ never _ lets me do this, she’s always worried I’ll fall.”

“I’ll catch you,” Dick promised, beaming at him. He held onto Wally’s forearms just a little tighter, just in case. God knew he was clumsy at the best of times. 

They slowed down eventually, though they still bounced idly on their heels, enjoying the thrill of jumping on a bed while it lasted. Dick relaxed his grip on Wally’s arms with one last squeeze, but neither of them fully let go. 

It made Dick’s heart pound in his chest. 

Wally looked unfairly handsome like this. His hair was tousled and his eyes still sparkled with mirth; there was a smile on his face that was just for Dick, just for this moment right here. Like this, while they were relatively still, Dick could pick out the smattering of freckles across Wally’s nose and cheeks. They were adorable.

Dick swallowed hard. He’d been staring for too long. 

“Do you think I could do a flip on here?”

Wally blinked at him, and then burst into giggles. “Dude, there’s not enough room. You’re good, but nobody’s  _ that _ good.”

Challenge accepted. Dick pulled away from Wally, hoping he didn’t look too reluctant about it as his fingers trailed against his wrists. “Watch me.”

“Dick-”

“I’ve got it.”

“Dick,  _ no-” _

He used the mattress as a springboard, and launched himself into the air. Rather than aim for the bed, Dick tucked his knees in close to his chest and spun for the floor. He neatly unfurled in time to slap his feet to the ground, arms up triumphantly.

Behind him, Wally started whooping and clapping. Dick turned towards him again to make his dramatic bow, acting as if he had an audience much bigger than just one person as he blew kisses to the imaginary theatre. His momentary slip was forgotten in the face of Wally’s delight, and before he knew it, they were grabbing their shoes and sweeping out of the door again, scurrying back to Dick’s room to clean up before lunch.

* * *

Dick leaned back, squinting up at the bookcases towering overhead. They stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and they were each made from a heavy, thick wood. There weren’t very many books on the shelves now, truth be told; the dust had filled in the gaps left there so it was one seamless layer, so there was no telling where those books had even been back in the day. Dick assumed they’d been ferried away to the bigger, better used library on the second floor of the manor, the one that Alfred and Bruce frequented, and the books left behind were simply castoffs. 

He cocked his head and considered a spine. The title certainly wasn’t in English.

“D’you think there’s anything weird in here?” Wally asked. He headed further down their row, trailing his fingers idly along the the shelves. They drummed across the books, thudding gently against the worn leather. As Dick watched, Wally craned his neck to unsuccessfully look higher. “Maybe up there?”

Admittedly, it did look like the higher shelves had been left alone. There were fewer gaps, less instances of books leaning against each other where they’d slipped over the years. Odds were, Dick wouldn’t be able to read them anyway, but still…

He grinned. “I can find out.”

Wally raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Dick flexed his fingers and took a step back to plan his route. The best part about the empty shelves, he thought, was the fact that it left him with plenty of reliable footholds. 

He heard the realisation click into Wally’s place the second he planted a foot on a shelf. “Dick,” he said, wary, “c’mon, the shelves are old, they won’t hold-”

Dick gave them a curious wiggle. It felt solid enough. “It’ll hold,” he said easily, and he began to scale it with the same ease he scaled everything else. “Besides, if it doesn’t, you’ll catch me.”

Wally laughed. “I’ve got super speed, Dick, not strength.”

“So you’ll be really quick about catching me, then.” Dick wiggled his foot further onto the shelf, bumping a book as he went. “You’ve caught me from higher up before, Walls.”

“Fair point.” Wally’s pacing footsteps paused, and when Dick glanced over his shoulder, he saw him leaning back against the opposite aisle, his arms loosely folded. “What’s up there?”

Dick paused halfway up, tilting his head to line up with the spines. “Nothing I can read,” he admitted. “I don’t even know what language this is.”

“I thought you were good with languages?”

“Yeah, but not all of ‘em.” 

He carried on, slowing down as the shelves became more populated. His feet ended up wedged between a couple of thick books, and that was where Dick stopped himself; he didn’t want his feet getting stuck on the off chance that he fell. That was a disaster in the making.

Instead, he secured himself as best he could, ignoring the thick layers of dust sticking to his fingers as he looked along the row in front of his face. Below, he heard Wally push off from his shelf, and Dick could easily picture him hovering beneath Dick, ready to catch him. It made his stomach do a funny sort of twist that he tended to associate with throwing himself from a higher than normal jump -  _ exciting, _ not terrifying. He swallowed.

“Anything?”

“Nah.” Dick puffed a stray strand of his hair away from his eyes. “Just a few spiderwebs.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah.”

Getting down was easier than climbing up. It was a shame there wasn’t enough space to jump off; with Wally treading a path back and forth in the narrow space of their aisle, it wasn’t worth trying it, although there was the tempting thought of landing square in Wally’s arms. Dick shrugged the thought away, as appealing as it was. 

He huffed as he landed back on his feet, brushing down his shirt and jeans. It didn’t help much. “Well, that was a bust,” he sighed, looking mournfully up again. “I’d try the others, but it’s probably gonna be the same. I bet Alfred and Bruce grabbed all of the English stuff for the library downstairs.”

“Probably,” Wally agreed, leaning against the bookshelf with one shoulder. “Dude, you’ve left your footprints in the dust. Alfred’s gonna kill you if he ever sees this.”

“I don’t think he comes up here enough.” Dick eyed up his footprints warily anyway, but there wasn’t much he could do about them now. It wasn’t even worth sweeping them away entirely, because then he’d just be left with an incriminating smear on the bookshelf and even dirtier hands.

Wally hummed agreeably, but he seemed distracted. He considered the closest shelf thoughtfully, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“What?” Dick asked, nudging him.

Wally looked up at him, his eyes twinkling. “We should write something.”

Dick arched an eyebrow. “You wanna write something in the dust.”

“Yeah. It’s like  _ ‘this guy was here’ _ graffiti, or tree trunk carvings.” Wally’s cheeks turned a little pink at that, but whatever had caused it, he didn’t address it. He just reached up to run his fingers through his hair, ruffling it in an oddly nervous gesture. “We could write our names in it.”

“And potentially hand Alfred the evidence he needs to imprison us both?” Dick teased. They were, of course, the only two going this deep into the manor anyway, so writing their names wouldn’t really be any more incriminating than Dick’s footprints already were. It made Wally laugh, though, and that was Dick’s main goal anyway.

“I think we’re screwed there either way,” Wally said wryly. “Here, what if I just…”

He scooted past Dick, squeezing between him and the bookcase to get to a flat expanse of dust. Then, with his index finger pointed out like a pencil, Wally hunched over to carefully begin writing. His shoulders blocked Dick’s view, so he lounged back in Wally’s vacated spot to wait. 

“There,” Wally said, stepping away with a flourish - and then, wrinkling his nose, he wiped his fingertip on the hem of his shirt. 

Dick leaned forwards, head tilted so he could better see in the low light and-

His heart skipped a traitorous little beat.

Right there, for anyone to see, was  _ ‘Robin + Kid Flash’. _ Not their names, for whatever reason; he didn’t know why Wally had settled on their superhero identities, and he wasn’t sure that Wally even had a concrete answer for that. The presence of the plus symbol felt like it tilted Dick’s world on its axis a little bit, like it was playing straight into his giddy crush on his best friend. Wally had picked  _ plus _ for their dusty message, not just  _ ‘and’. _

He almost wondered if the superhero names were there for plausible deniability, just in case Wally felt the same and he wanted to protect himself. The possibility of it caught in Dick’s throat.

The writing felt weirdly permanent, even though Dick knew that more dust would eventually settle to fill the gaps. It was a bizarrely temporary sort of mark, one that Dick kind of wanted to take a photo of just so it actually  _ could _ last longer. He wanted that unspoken possibility to  _ stay. _

“Awesome,” he breathed, for lack of anything else to say. “Looks good.”

Wally bumped their shoulders together fondly. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time. I wonder how dusty that dining room’s gotten since we checked it out.”

Dick leaned against him, relishing the bright spot of warmth against his arm. “We could go track it down. Maybe you can sneeze on the curtains again.”

“I hope you remember where it is,” Wally said. He hooked a hand around Dick’s elbow to tug him towards the door; a little thrill shivered through Dick’s heart, leaving it thudding twice for every beat. “Y’know, we should make a map. I bet we could finish this whole floor by the end of the summer.”

As it turned out, the dining room wasn’t as dusty as they’d hoped. They did, however, make a beeline for Dick’s bedroom, only to scurry out all over again with pen and paper in hand.

* * *

There were other discoveries, other little gems they stumbled upon as they mapped out the third floor of Wayne Manor. 

The vast majority of rooms were unremarkable. Various storage spaces left them with empty boxes and crates, and other areas were simply empty altogether, the furniture long since moved or stored elsewhere; in fact, one room was piled so high with furniture that they couldn’t squeeze very far inside, and they had to abandon that adventure before it really started. Dick almost tripped over a stray chair leg on his way out, and Wally caught him with a fond laugh that made him flush.

There was an unused kitchen where nothing worked. When Dick clambered up onto the counters, he found that the cupboards were bare, stripped clean by long dead servants. They whiled away the time on the island, scribbling out the new addition to their map and lamenting the lack of old cooking instruments to sword fight with.

Perhaps the most ominous thing they found across the entire floor was a room they suspected to be a chapel. Dick knew that there was a proper one out on the grounds somewhere, just as disused as most of the rooms beyond the manor’s immediate backyard, but this felt different. It was a little intimidating for its size; there were only a couple of pews, and the entire thing couldn’t have been bigger than Dick’s bedroom. Something about the place left Dick on edge, and judging by the way Wally’s brows turned down in a gentle frown, he felt the same. It felt disrespectful to be there, even as they spoke in hushed voices. They didn’t stay long. 

Near the wing of bedrooms, there was a nursery. A crib sat in the corner, turned diagonally towards the door, but it was completely bare. Any sheets or dressings were long gone, by the looks of things. There were, however, a few old, dusty toys on the somehow still plush rug. Dick and Wally squatted down to inspect them, entertaining themselves with the blocky cars and impressive model horses. Their imaginations ran out after a couple of silly moments, and they put them back where they’d found them, as if the toys were waiting for their owner to return.

Every time Wally stayed over for a weekend, they carved out another part of their map. As Wally had predicted, they made easy work of the whole thing, noting down the most interesting parts on their diagram as they went. 

Eventually, they were left with just a trapdoor. It was near the stairs they used to come up to this floor, but so far, it had remained firmly shut. 

That wasn’t going to deter them.

* * *

Dick was the first up the ladder, while Wally stayed below to keep it steady. He planted a forearm on the lip of the trapdoor and pulled himself up, pausing halfway through to stare.

It wasn’t a particularly big attic, considering the size of Wayne Manor. If anything, it was smaller than his bedroom - although, with one end of it stacked high with boxes, it was hard to tell just how far it stretched. The rest of it was empty, broken up only by the wooden beams that supported the roof; there was a lonely porthole window at the end, where Gotham’s watery sunlight streamed through. 

All in all, it was a relatively uninteresting room. Something about it tugged at Dick, though, so he carried on up the ladder, twisting to hop up into the attic. 

“What is it?” Wally asked. The ladder creaked as he planted a foot on the bottom rung. “What’s up there?”

“Not much,” Dick called back. He rolled neatly to his feet, brushing himself down as he made a beeline for the boxes. “Some old stuff, but not much else.”

Wally thumped his way up the ladder to join him, and Dick turned to offer him a hand up. He bumped into Dick’s side, stepping neatly into his personal bubble as he joined him in the already crowded space, but Dick didn’t mind in the slightest. It was a struggle to not put a hand on Wally’s shoulder or his back as he came close; Dick tucked them into his pockets instead, determined to keep them to himself.

“Huh,” Wally hummed, holding up a cardboard flap so he could peer inside. “It just looks like junk.”

“It probably is,” Dick agreed. He sidled up to Wally, looking over his shoulder. Whatever it was in there, it was broken; gears and bolts were strewn across the bottom, left there by someone long ago who had probably tried to tinker too much. “I guess even billionaires have stuff they’ve left and forgotten in their attic.”

“I guess.” 

Wally flipped the lid shut again, and rather than investigate further like Dick expected him to, he turned towards the window instead. He made a handsome silhouette as he wandered over there, ducking down just a little bit so he could actually see through the glass. Dick swallowed as a little smile stole across Wally’s face, lopsided and sweet where it cut into his cheek. 

He glanced up, and his smile brightened. “Dude, come here,” Wally said, beckoning. “You can see the whole driveway from here.”

And, sure enough, he could. Dick tucked himself into the small space next to Wally so he could look out into the grounds. He traced the winding path that led to the sturdy gates near Gotham’s roads, and as he watched, they swung open to let Alfred through. From here, the car looked like little more than a toy, eased along the driveway by some invisible child’s hand. Soon enough, it drifted out of sight behind a sharp incline of the manor’s roof, but Dick still found himself grinning.

“You know,” Wally said, head cocked the other way this time, “this would make a cool hideout spot. You can see everything from up here, and I bet with a little cleaning it would be pretty comfortable up here.”

“It’ll need more than a little cleaning,” Dick replied, raising an eyebrow. He scuffed the toe of his sneakers across the floor, just to draw a line in the dust. “And what would we use it for anyway? We already have my room to hang out in, plus the rest of the manor.”

Wally shrugged. “Just to have another room, I guess,” he said, propping himself up against the wall lazily. “I’m just saying, I think we could make it pretty comfy. All we’d need is a couple of blankets and some cushions. Then it would be  _ ours.” _

“I don’t know if Bruce and Alfred would go for it.” Dick sighed and put his back to the window so he could rest his shoulder against Wally’s. 

“I think we could convince ‘em.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Wally flashed him a winning smile. “Between the two of us, there’s plenty of charm to go around.” The smile faded, just a little bit, as it morphed into something gentler,  _ warmer. _ “Or, if you don’t want to, that’s okay. We can just add it to the map and go find something to eat.”

Dick rolled his eyes fondly. “Of course you want food.”

Wally held his hands up in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

And the thing was, Dick was already convinced, and the sound of Wally’s chuckle just locked it in. He’d been convinced from the first moment Wally suggested the idea, enchanted by the idea of a space for  _ them. _ Sure, they shared his room when Wally stayed over, but there was something so  _ magical _ about the idea of a place they had made together. He could already picture it, and the more that he thought about it, the more he ached for it.

It would be a little piece of Wally here at the manor, something to remember this incredible summer by. When Wally was back at home in Central, there would still be this tangible reminder of the time they had spent together. On top of that, there was a whole world of new memories to be made up there, ways they could entertain themselves with little more than their phones and each other.

So, naturally, Dick brought it up at dinner.

Bruce gave him a considering little look over his soup, blowing over his spoon to cool it. “You want to renovate the attic?”

“One of them,” Wally said, smiling sheepishly. “Just that one.”

“Mm.” Bruce popped his spoon in his mouth, and then dipped it back into his bowl. “I don’t know, boys. It’s a little far from the main house, don’t you think?”

“We’ve been wandering around up there for ages already,” Dick reminded him. He scooped up a slice of bread to dip it into his soup, but he didn’t eat yet; he was too focused on Bruce, too dialled in to try and wheedle his way into the result he wanted. “C’mon, nothing’s gonna happen up there. We’re just gonna turn it into a den.”

Bruce glanced down at his food, his brows furrowed in thought. When Alfred shifted next to him, Dick held his tongue.

“If you ask me, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, shooting Dick a smile that was entirely in the twinkle of his eyes, “it sounds like a fantastic idea. Do you remember when you insisted on turning this very dining table into a tent?”

Dick grinned at the way Bruce’s cheeks tinted pink. “Alfred-”

“Oh, he wouldn’t let me take the sheet away for a month,” Alfred said, turning to give Dick and Wally a conspiratorial little wink. “Goodness gracious, it was all I could do to get him to come out and eat his dinner properly. Transforming a dusty old attic is much less hassle than that ever was.”

Bruce scrubbed at his cheek with a sigh. “That is… a fair point, Alfred, thank you. Boys, just make sure you clean it out thoroughly first; I doubt it’s fit for much until you do.”

“We will,” Dick promised, beaming. “Thanks, Bruce.”

Bruce inclined his head to quietly acknowledge him, and then, once they’d all taken up their cutlery again, Bruce murmured, “And, out of curiosity, I’d like to see it when it’s done.”

* * *

And so began their quest to redecorate their own little attic.

Cleaning was, as Bruce had said, a must. They armed themselves with gloves and countless cloths as they swept away the dust before they even considered anything else. In a desperate moment of hope, Wally tried to wrangle the vacuum up the ladder, but the power cord simply wasn’t long enough, so they stuck to getting down to their hands and knees to use a little elbow grease. Wally propped up his phone on one of the boxes to cycle through one of his favourite playlists, something bouncy and full of eighties music, so more often than not, Dick found himself singing along and laughing when Wally scrunched up his cloth and used it as a makeshift microphone.

The boxes, on the other hand, they left pretty much untouched. There were simply too many to properly sort through them all, but their curiosity did drag them back in for just a little while under the pretence of making sure there was nothing they needed to watch out for. When it became clear it was mostly old, yellowed books - unfortunately still in a language Dick couldn’t read - and broken, abandoned things, they decided to leave it all alone.

The first step was finding a rug. The floor was a simple enough wood, nothing particularly fancy when it was in this hidden away portion of the manor, but Dick knew that they both wanted comfort and style. Alfred supplied them with one he  _ claimed _ he’d found sitting around, but Dick wasn’t sure how much he actually bought that excuse. Regardless, it did look nice rolled out across the wooden boards, and it was particularly plush underfoot.

They wrestled beanbags up the ladder and deposited them under the window - and then, in a stroke of genius, Wally took one of the heavier boxes of books and wedged it between their new seats just so they had a table. It didn’t take long for it to end up holding their drinks, snacks, and Dick’s bluetooth speaker.

When Bruce came to inspect, he plied them with further gifts: a few blankets and cushions he’d decided to donate. He gave their hideout a considering little look, and Dick was  _ sure _ he saw the corner of Bruce’s mouth twitch as he fought back the urge to smile. Wally thanked him and immediately scooped up the most ragged looking blanket to hang it from a length of string over the window, and then he stood back and grinned in triumph at his makeshift curtains. Dick added another loop off to one side so they could sweep it back and let in the weak sunshine, and as they high fived, Bruce made his way back down the ladder with a fond laugh.

All in all, the whole process took a couple of weekend sleepovers. In those days between, Dick kept himself downstairs by helping Alfred with his baking; he itched to get back up into the attic and finish things off, but he didn’t want to do it without Wally. Alfred only gave him a warm smile when he mentioned it, and he plied him with a blueberry muffin and urged him to do some plotting if he wanted to be productive so badly.

So, naturally, Dick plotted.

When Wally returned that weekend, his cheeks pink from the run over to Gotham, Dick whisked him away to the attic within minutes of dropping off his things in his room. There, he unveiled the string of photos he’d kept tucked away against his chest, unrolling it to present it to Wally for inspection. The whole Teen Titans gang was there on display, grouped up with Dick and Wally in various poses. Donna and Lilith pulled faces at the camera in one, and Roy clambered up onto Garth’s shoulders in another, his bow drawn back and his tongue between his teeth as he aimed at something off camera - a tin can, if Dick remembered rightly, that Wally had run off with and placed a short distance away, just to give Roy a bit of a challenge.

Photos had been the best thing Dick could come up with, and the easiest to prepare. This place was for him and Wally alone, of course - it felt special, sacred - because while Dick loved their friends, he didn’t particularly think he wanted them up here, invading their bubble. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want  _ any _ reminders of them, though. 

Wally took them with a delighted grin. “Let’s hang ‘em up over here,” he said, pointing between two of the wooden posts lining their attic. They didn’t stop there, either; once that string was done, they hunted down more photos from Wally’s phone, and then went to sneak into Bruce’s office to borrow his printer. 

One line of pictures was entirely the two of them. Dick lingered at it, greedily drinking them in to refresh his memories; there was Wally with his arm around Dick’s shoulders, Dick giving him a piggyback ride, and  _ plenty _ of them tangled together in various comfortable looking spots. One in particular caught Dick’s eye, one where he and Wally were sprawled together on a couch in Titans Tower for a nap. He’d buried his face in Wally’s chest, seeking out the inhuman warmth that radiated off of him, and Wally had slung an arm around his shoulders as he slept.

Wally had picked that photo. Dick’s heart skipped a beat.

After that, there were only a few finishing touches left to make. They taped up some posters on the slanted ceiling, arranged their cushions and blankets so they could flop wherever they wanted, and made a lamp out of a flashlight and an old lampshade from the other end of the attic. They stationed it near the trapdoor, otherwise content to enjoy the natural light from their little window.

Dick slumped into his beanbag once they were done, his chest flooding with warmth when Wally just piled on next to him. They settled in shoulder to shoulder to watch Netflix from Wally’s phone, propping it up on the cardboard table against Dick’s speaker. 

It was perfect.

* * *

It took some convincing for Bruce to let them move their last sleepover of the summer up there. Dick wasn’t above pleading with him, but luckily, he didn’t have to, not when Alfred arched an eyebrow and shot a look at the dining table they were eating at.

They didn’t need much up there. They used the blankets and cushions as their bedding, though when the clouds outside darkened ominously, Bruce insisted on passing a thicker comforter up there to keep them warm through the night. It was a double, more than enough for the both of them as they settled in on the plush rug side by side, but it made Dick’s heart thud in an uneven rhythm in his chest when he and Wally faced each other on their pillows. 

“Hey,” Wally said, wiggling his arms out of their covers to flick open his phone’s kickstand. “D’you think it’d be a bad idea to watch a horror movie right now?”

“I’ve seen worse at night than bad CGI,” Dick snorted. He rolled onto his stomach and dropped his chin on his folded arms. 

Wally wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “But have you watched one at night in a thunderstorm?”

Dick glanced up at their window. They still had their blanket curtain pulled back, and while there were streaks of rain against the glass, there was no thunder or lightning to speak of. “It’s not a storm, Walls. S’just rain.”

“It’ll be a storm,” Wally said, and he sounded so sure of himself that Dick was hard pressed to not believe him. He tapped at his screen, scrolled down Netflix, and added, “I can feel it. It’s kind of like static, but…” He trailed off, glancing up at the window. “I think it’s a speedforce thing. Barry said he can feel it, too.”

“Huh. That’s cool.”

Wally shrugged. “I guess.” He cut Dick a sly look then, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth. “You’re not afraid of horror films, are you?”

“What?” Dick laughed, shaking his head. “No. Why?”

“Just saying,” Wally said, pressing play with a grin, “I can always hold you if you get scared.”

And, well, that was a tempting offer, but Dick had a reputation to uphold. They ended up scooting closer together anyway, close enough for Dick to rest his forearm comfortably against Wally’s under the covers. Sure enough, flashes of lightning lit up their small portion of the sky before long, and Dick  _ felt _ the answering shiver of electricity as it raced across Wally’s skin. It wasn’t much more than a slight buzz, but it was there and so inherently  _ Wally _ that Dick almost crossed the gap between them under the cover of darkness.

Instead, he eventually dozed off next to Wally with that curtain still pulled to the side. The movie trailed off towards its end, and Netflix eventually rolled through the credits to the end without interruption. Dick was distantly aware of Wally’s head tilting to rest against his, and then sleep swept him away before he could think of much else.

* * *

Dick woke to birdsong directly outside the window. He grimaced and pressed his face deeper into his cushion, determined to sleep for a little while longer even though his side ached from sleeping on the floor all night.

There was a quiet hum of laughter next to him. Dick’s eye cracked open without his permission.

Wally was facing him, his hands bunched up under his cushion as he met Dick’s eyes. A smile lingered on his lips, and his hair was an absolute mess, just like it always was whenever he woke up from their poorly decided sleeping spots. The warmth from his body lingered in their blankets, and Dick was sure that  _ that _ was why his cheeks felt a little hot. It had to be.

It definitely wasn’t the way the sunlight from the window drifted across Wally’s cheeks, or the way it lit up the dust motes floating through the air. Wally’s eyes sparkled a bright, beautiful green in the early morning light, warm and soft and with just a hint of that mischievous streak that Dick so deeply  _ loved. _

God.  _ Loved. _

Dick closed the space between them without checking with himself first. He was clumsy as he bumped his nose against Wally’s, but he wasn’t the one who tilted to actually press their lips together. Warmth shivered through his chest like a lightning bolt as he realised Wally reached up to cup his cheek and kiss  _ back.  _

It was a long moment before Dick pulled away, his breath catching in his throat as Wally gave him one of those sweet, lopsided smiles. 

“Um,” Dick said, laughing quietly into the scant inches between them, “good morning.”

“Morning,” Wally said, grinning. 

And, just like that, Wally was… normal. Dick was prepared for this to be a big deal, but instead, Wally was just acting like it wasn’t their first kiss, but their hundredth, or maybe even their thousandth. There was still a hint of  _ something _ in the way Wally’s fingertips buzzed against Dick’s jaw, though, uncertain and nervous, even though it had been so clearly mutual.

God, it was  _ mutual! _

“So was that...” Dick cleared his throat. He wanted to avert his gaze, but they were close enough that he  _ couldn’t _ look anywhere else. Wally was just that captivating. “That was okay?” he asked once he’d found his voice.

“More than okay,” Wally promised. He swallowed hard enough that Dick heard the click of his throat. “I’ve been wanting to do that all summer.”

“Me, too,” Dick admitted. He let out a shaky exhale, one tinged with a self-conscious laugh, and tipped forwards to rest his forehead against Wally’s. “I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Wally gently tapped his cheek with his thumb. “Me spending pretty much every weekend here didn’t give you a clue, Mr. Son of the Greatest Detective?”

“Shut up.” Dick lightly slapped his shoulder just to make Wally snicker. “You didn’t exactly give me any clues, Walls.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly wanna do anything where Batman might see me.” Wally’s cheeks flushed pink when Dick snorted. Dick thought it looked cute. “Speaking of, can we do more of that before he comes up to call us for breakfast?”

Dick didn’t even need to consider his answer to that one, but he  _ did _ feel a flash of boldness that swept him up all over again, just like it had only a few minutes ago. If it had gotten him one kiss with Wally, then he figured his track record was good enough to trust it. 

“We can do more of it now if we get to keep doing it after the summer ends,” he said, the words tripping off of his tongue in a rush, and then he paused just to suck in a quick breath. Well, that was nice and direct, and that was kind of what he’d wanted anyway. He propped himself up on an elbow so he could better meet Wally’s eyes, and he tried not to get lost in the way the sparkling dust had settled in his hair. 

The only problem was, the sight made him feel tongue tied. Dick glanced down at the blankets between his fingers, fiddling with them as he desperately tried to work out what to say. “Wally, I-”

Wally’s hand landed on his, stilling his fingers. “Hey,” he said, and Dick snapped his mouth shut. “I like you too, Dick. I don’t want to leave this as just a kiss in your attic.”

Dick’s heart thrashed against his ribcage. “Me neither.” 

This time, Wally made the first move, and Dick met him halfway. He sunk back down into their makeshift bed as they kissed, content to ignore the rest of the world for a little bit longer. All he needed was right here in this attic, and now that he’d been given permission to explore, he wanted to map Wally out just like they had mapped out the rest of the manor. As Wally’s hand settled on the curve of his cheek, Dick decided to start with the smile he could feel against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [capedcommissioner](https://capedcommissioner.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
